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The Magic of Mistletoe Page 3
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He surprised her with, “As a matter of fact, I have. Troy owns a series of seafood restaurants in New England. I believe you supply the Hughes family with your honey and maple syrup for their maple-glazed salmon.”
The pit of Christie’s stomach ached from the punch of his words. “Are you saying Troy is a Hughes?”
Chase nodded.
So much for her theory he was trying to swindle her mother out of money. The Hughes family was worth millions, maybe even billions, and also comprised one of their oldest, largest accounts. Christie’s dad had sealed that deal with Mr. Hughes when Christie was still in diapers, when both men were starting up their business. Christie had never met any of the Hughes family. She or Libby mostly dealt with the ordering department. Things had just become slightly complicated.
“Well, at least I know he isn’t after my inheritance.” She tried to joke but failed miserably as she lost her appetite. Setting her half-eaten sandwich down on the plate, she dusted her fingers off on the napkin on her lap.
“No, he’s not that type of guy. What I don’t understand is, why rush this wedding? Troy never makes a bad decision.” She started to open her mouth when he put his hand up. “No offense to your mother. What I mean is, why marry and complicate his life?”
She raised her own hand to mirror his. “I agree with you. What’s the hurry? Relationships always end in a broken heart anyway. They distract you from your goals—”
“Speaking from experience?” he interrupted, arching an eyebrow. She could have slapped herself for being totally transparent, but being with Chase came easy—talking with him even easier.
“Yes.” She could feel her face flush.
“So what are we going to do to return things back to normal?”
She picked up her cell phone and began surfing the internet. “I hadn’t planned that far in advance. My mother doesn’t know I’m here yet.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m Googling how to prevent two people from getting married.” She tossed her cell phone back down on the table. “This is ridiculous. I have to devise a plan and run the risk of my mother never speaking to me again.”
Eyes smiling, Chase reached over and squeezed her hand. “I have an idea!”
“Tell me.”
His enthusiasm was contagious. She kind of liked his hand on hers and didn’t dare flinch a muscle so as to maintain their connection.
“We pretend to meet for the first time and fall for each other,” he said.
He looked so handsome, it pained her to speak her thoughts out loud. “Wow. I mean, no offense, but what difference will that make?” That was one of the dumbest ideas she had ever heard, almost as foolish as arriving here unannounced and spying on them.
He frowned. “You’re not following me.”
“Apparently not.” Sliding her hand out from under his, she struggled to hide her irritation and disappointment all rolled into one.
“We let them introduce us. Then we become inseparable. So much so that we declare we’re in love and want to get married. People often don’t recognize the faults of their actions until they see it in someone else. When they see how fast we’ve fallen for each other, they’ll realize how immature they’ve been behaving—like teenagers.”
Now that was a good point. Her mother had always been calculated in her decision-making. The woman she observed in the dining room earlier with lovesick eyes set on Troy was not the Barbara Winters who raised her; this woman was caught up in a romantic fantasy, and it was up to Christie to restore her sense of reality.
“Okay, I’m in. So what’s our next move?”
“I’m supposed to meet them for dinner tonight. Why don’t I text you the time? I’m pretty sure it will be here at Junonia, and if not, I’ll do my best to suggest we dine there. Then you can surprise us at dinner.”
“This could work, and if it does, I’ll owe Chase Barrington a whole lot of sugar—”
His eyes brightened, and he smirked.
“Ugh—er, maple sugar, that is.” A nervous laugh escaped her lips.
He chuckled. “I knew what you meant.”
Chapter Four
The sun was nowhere near setting as Chase was seated in the dining room waiting on Troy and Barbara, who messaged they were running fifteen minutes behind schedule. Something about being unable to reach Fiona, Barbara’s sister, held them up, but they should be walking in any minute. Chase sent a text to Christie, keeping her up to date.
Chase didn’t mind the wait, really, except for the fact that he was hungry. The dining room of Junonia overlooked the Gulf of Mexico through large panoramic windows. It created the most romantic atmosphere, with the soft, gentle surf rolling white foam along the shore. Chase enjoyed people-watching among the food, laughter and celebrations as he imagined sharing a private dinner with Christie at a table for two overlooking the water. Across the room, he spotted the perfect table, surrounded by beautiful Florida arrangements. They would hold hands, drink wine and share more intimate details about their past.
Hold on! Where was he going with that? This wasn’t a real relationship. He glanced at the water glass on his table. Did they put something in the water to have that kind of effect on people? He almost wanted to bottle it and send it off to a lab to be tested. He ran a finger around the inside collar of his shirt. If he didn’t know better, he’d think his tie was strangling him.
He spied Barbara and Troy as they maneuvered around the tables. Barbara was an older version of Christie and, at her age, a real beauty: shoulder-length golden hair, big blue eyes framed with thick black lashes. She wore an off-the-shoulder mint-green dress with a floral chiffon wrap. Diamonds dangled from her ears and wrist, and it was the first time he bothered to notice the diamond ring on her hand. Troy pulled out the chair as Barbara sat down and gently slid it under her.
“I apologize; we’re late. My sister was supposed to join us but changed her plans and forgot to let me in on it. Please forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” He waved his hand and picked up the wine menu, scanning the list.
“Before you say a word,” Troy said, “I spoke to Clay Walker about you and your wine. He’s going be stopping by our table tonight. He’s very interested in having a private wine created for Casa Blanca.” Troy slapped him on the back like old times.
Chase tried to stay focused, but he couldn’t wait to discreetly text Christie to make her surprise entrance.
Barbara grabbed his hand. “Chase, I’m so thankful you are here for the both of us. I want you to know it means the world to Troy that you are here. He told me of your college pact. To tell you the truth, after my husband died, I never thought I would want to marry again.” She put her other hand in Troy’s. “Something magical happened when he kissed me under the mistletoe in the lobby. I can’t explain it.”
Chase nearly choked on air.
“Are you all right?” Barbara asked.
“I’m fine,” he forced out as he cleared his throat. There was no such thing as magic in Barefoot Bay, but this place had an ambiance all its own. Chase didn’t believe in magic or love at first, second or third sight, for that matter. Yet Clay and Lacey Walker had devised a vacation paradise, a complete piece of heaven on earth. This tropical escape had a perfect location along the most pristine shoreline, as if it had been made for the white, sandy beach. The lush landscaping and distinctive architecture—if Clay Walker stopped by their table tonight, Chase would compliment him on a job well done. The man had spared no expense and hired the best. Chase was anxious for the opportunity to create an exclusive wine to complement the menu. From what he could see and smell, the cuisine looked amazing.
Barbara continued, “The only one missing is my daughter Christie. I can’t wait for Troy to meet her and you, too, Chase.” She released Troy’s hand and reached for her water glass. “If I can tear her away from her work.” Chase saw the sadness in her eyes.
Troy interjected, “She’ll be here, l
ove.” He leaned over and kissed her temple. “She’s her father’s daughter. You can’t fault her for working hard. This time of year is maddening for every business owner.” He turned his attention to Chase. “Tell her I’m right.”
“She knows you are.” Chase reached for his phone and hit send. The pre-typed message to Christie was on its way. Any moment, she would walk through that door, and their charade would begin. Only now he was having second thoughts after spending a few moments with the two of them. The hurt and disappointment in Barbara’s voice made him feel a bit guilty about the plan he’d devised.
“Oh, I don’t believe it!” Barbara exclaimed. “Christie—you’re here!”
Chase turned toward the door where Christie stood.
She took his breath away.
Her long, blond hair was pulled back smoothly into a knot. She wore a spaghetti-strap, red, form-fitted dress an inch above the knee, showing off legs that went on for miles, with matching red stiletto pumps. He didn’t know what was wrong with his hormones lately, but he was lucky they weren’t in charge. His head was, and it was a good thing, too, because of the way Christie was dressed. He’d be tongue-tied if he gave in to the sexual thoughts playing in the back of his mind.
Barbara jumped up and ran toward her daughter, arms outstretched, with tears in her eyes. “Christie, you’re here.”
“Surprise, Mom.” Christie had a tear-filled smile.
Chase and Troy both stood up as the two women returned to the table. Troy motioned for their waiter. “Champagne, please. We have a lot to celebrate.”
“When did you arrive? How did you know we were here?” Barbara asked as they were seated. Barbara made the introductions, and Chase gave Christie a wink when no one was looking. So far, everything was going as planned.
Ignoring the first question, Christie explained, “It wasn’t that difficult. I asked the maître d’ if you had a reservation for dinner.” That seemed to satisfy the happy couple. They ordered appetizers and made small talk for a bit until it was time to order dinner.
“Now that you’re here,” Barbara said, “tomorrow we’ll meet at Barefoot Brides for the fitting for your dress, then we’ll have some mother-daughter time in the spa. How does that sound?”
“Wow, you have everything all planned. Can we take it slow? I do have work to do while I’m here.” Christie picked up a piece of bread that had been sitting in the basket and planted it on a small white plate. “The fitting is fine. We’ll see about the spa.” She flashed Chase a grin. He caught her meaning. If Barbara monopolized Christie’s every minute, how would they execute their plan?
Chase turned to Christie. “Would you like to take a walk about the grounds after dinner?” It would be perfect for their plan, and even more so, he wanted to be close to her. Christie was stunning, and she had an inner beauty. Sure, they had gotten off on the wrong foot but had quickly made up for it.
“I’d love to. I have a feeling I’m going to need to walk off some of this food before I turn in for the night.” Tall and slim, she likely could eat like this for a week and show no signs of weight gain.
“We could always walk all night,” he offered. “That way we won’t feel a bit of guilt over it.”
The entire table chuckled. When the waiter brought their appetizers and finished taking their order, Christie filled Barbara in on Vermont Sugar Shack business and the new retail chain orders. Troy told the story of how John Winters and his father had worked out a mutually beneficial business arrangement that was still in place today.
They ate, and when the meal was over, they said their goodbyes. Chase hooked Christie’s arm in his, and the two of them walked outside. “I’d say that went well. It's a beautiful night. Would you like to walk along the beach?”
“I’d like to change, first, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll do the same. Why don’t you come up to my room? I’ll change and then walk you to your villa.”
She nodded her head yes. “Troy seems like a really nice guy.”
“He is, and I think he genuinely believes he’s in love with Barbara. I’m not convinced it would be long-lasting. Unfortunately, he has no track record when it comes to relationships.”
“My mother is a different story. She was married for twenty years. She’s expecting to spend the rest of her life with Troy. I don’t want to see her hurt.”
“I’m afraid it’s a little late for that, but we can minimize the damage. If it’s her decision, it may lessen the pain involved.”
“True.”
Chase slid his keycard into the lock and waited for the green light before opening the door.
“You said you had a room. This is a suite,” she marveled. “The view from up here is breathtaking.” She walked over to the long window and stared out into the night. Chase walked up behind her and inhaled her perfume. He had the sudden urge to place a kiss upon her neck.
*****
Christie sensed Chase’s presence as he stood inches behind her. Every cell in her body went on high alert when he was in close proximity. His warm breath brushed up against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. She spun around to face him. “You know, I haven’t had a break like this from work in years. It feels kinda nice.”
Even nicer to be in a romantic setting with the first man she felt connected to in forever. She stared at his lips, longing to feel them against hers. Too much wine at dinner clouded her brain. She fought the urge to inch a wee bit closer. This was supposed to be pretend, and he had shown no interest in her other than the mistletoe mishap. He’d been focused on their mission, keeping his distance.
His smoldering eyes met hers. “Now, that’s a problem.”
“Really?” She blinked at the directness of his statement. “How so?”
A company like the Vermont Sugar Shack couldn’t be left unmanaged for a long period of time. As a matter of fact, the weight of the guilt was beginning to creep back into her chest and squeeze her lungs tight. Before she turned in for the night, she’d call Libby for an update. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since she turned things over to her cousin, but she had this nagging feeling she’d better check in with Libby.
He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “I own Barrington Winery, a much larger company than the Sugar Shack, yet I’m able to get away—enjoy my life because I’ve placed key people I trust to handle any situation that arises. They have a way to reach me.” He paused. “What I mean is, I don’t take off often, but when I need to, I know that my company is in trusted hands in my absence.”
A sour taste formed in her mouth as Christie digested the content of his words. “So what you’re saying is, I haven’t managed my company or my employees as well as you have.” His harsh criticism was a total mood-killer.
“You’re taking it all wrong. That’s not what I meant at all.” He released her arms. “What I mean is, I don’t have to micromanage my company.”
“Are you implying I have control issues?” Why was she getting all defensive?
“Look, you’re missing my point.”
“I think you’ve made your point loud and clear,” she said, jabbing an index finger into his chest. “It’s time for me to make my exit.” She pushed past him, making her way toward the door. The male arrogance—always assuming their way was right. She should have realized by the way he planted the kiss on her lips under the mistletoe. So sure of himself and used to getting his way.
“Christie—wait—what about our plan?”
Now more than ever, she was convinced she had to stop the wedding and save her mother from heartbreak. Eventually, she’d come to realize it was for the best.
She turned to face him. Confusion riddled his face.
“I’ll keep up our charade.” What choice did Christie have? The situation had just elevated to a new level of difficult.
Chapter Five
A fresh, salty breeze sent a chill through the silky pink satin robe Christie wore. Sipping her morning coffee outside by the priva
te pool, she replayed the events leading up to last night, ending with her disappointment in Chase. It put a damper on the ending to what had been a pleasant evening. One of the best she’d had in months.
She had to admit some of what Chase had said was true. She did have control issues when it came to the Vermont Sugar Shack. There was no way, if she hired employees to take over different aspects of the business, they would keep things true to the way her father had run them. She wanted the business to thrive but maintain his thumbprint of the plan he laid out.
Christie had been there by his side every day during the last few years. He schooled her on how to keep the business growing. She wanted to hold true to his plan. Libby understood this principle; of course, she was family. That made a world of difference.
She set her cup down and gazed out at the water. Ah, this was the life. She sat in the cushioned seat, feet tucked underneath, robe pulled snug around her, enjoying the warm Florida December and feeling kind of guilty that poor Libby had to freeze her butt off in the cold.
A young couple walked along the beach with a black and white dog. Even from a distance, their body language said they were happy. Warm smiles, hand-holding—it was easy to see they were in love. A part of Christie wanted to be happy that way, too. As a couple. It wasn’t like she was unhappy—more like existing. She enjoyed her work, but did it make her truly happy? Right now the verdict was out until further notice. She thought of her mother last night. Her face glowed with happiness. Troy did too. For an instant, she was happy with Chase, until he reminded her of Justin.
And therein lay the problem. Chase criticized her like Justin did. What better way to climb than to get engaged to the owner’s daughter, then try to take over her position? Justin attempted to impress her father by pointing out all of her mistakes.
However, Chase didn’t want her company, and he was right that she could train Libby to take over. Sharing responsibility with her cousin would allow her to have a life outside of the Sugar Shack. She leaned back in the cushioned patio chair and closed her eyes. Her mother would be calling soon. Her dress fitting at the Barefoot Brides was at nine. She had time to shower and eat a quick breakfast before she left.